Meant to be
by lilmisblack
Summary: They had been close friends for years, but that night they decided friendship wasn't enough for them anymore.
1. Not good enough

Hermione couldn't believe her eyes when she saw him. They had only broken up a few weeks ago, after years together, and he brought her here?

She had been standing next to Molly when the two of them Apparated, so she had no choice but to smile and greet them, pretending nothing was wrong. Her best friend was getting married, and she wouldn't be the one to spoil their day; especially not because of him.

The wedding was at the Burrow, Molly not really giving the couple much choice in the matter. They had decided to keep the ceremony rather private, just family and a few old friends, as the famous Harry Potter was the groom, extra wards had been placed by the former Order members around the house to ensure privacy, and keep away nosy journalists and unwanted guests. They certainly didn't want to be on the cover of every wizarding paper for months.

After days of constant rain, the sky had finally cleared that very morning, giving them the unexpected, but hoped for, sunny day, perfect for the outdoors ceremony they had planned.

She was thankful when, after a few more minutes of uncomfortable conversation, they were to take their seats. It was time for the ceremony to begin.

As she made her way to the garden, along with the other guests, she was surprised at how beautiful everything looked. They had placed a white arch covered in white and light-yellow flowers in the centre, a few rows of white chairs in front of it, and a path in between, covered with petals.

She took her seat, on the front row, with the Weasleys, and did her best to ignore the tall, beautiful blond kissing Ron's neck by her side.

"You look beautiful," someone whispered by her ear, startling her. She quickly turned around to find Bill standing next to her, a sexy smile on his lips.

"Thank you," she muttered, blushing.

"Do you mind?" he asked Charlie, who had just sat down next to her, and the next second he had moved to the next seat, leaving room for Bill. She missed the knowing look he gave to his older brother.

"When did you get back?" she asked, as he sat by her side.

"Last night," he answered. He had moved back to England years before, but still worked for Gringotts and travelled often.

"And how was the trip?"

"Not bad, but I missed home," he said, a strange glint in his eyes she didn't have time to analyse, as the music began to play.

She turned and watched Harry walk to the arch. He was wearing white dress robes, and looked like he had tried to comb his hair, but to no avail, as usual. He looked nervous, looking around and fidgeting with the robes, but smiled warmly as his eyes met hers. She had never seen him so happy before.

Suddenly, he stiffened and turned again, his green eyes shining even more than before, if possible, and as she followed his gaze, she saw the bride, standing next to her father, smiling nervously and slowly walking down the aisle. She was wearing a white dress, more like a Muggle wedding dress than an actual robe, and her aunt's diadem.

Ginny's nervous expression soon turned into a broad smile as her eyes met Harry, waiting for her by the minister. She heard Molly sob loudly as her husband and only daughter walked past her, and Bill chuckle at his mother's reaction.

"Stop that," she scolded, stifling her own laugh.

The ceremony was short, just a few words from the minister, and some from Ginny and Harry, and then the binding, a small silver thread leaving both their wands and swirling around them for a few moments, before turning into sparks raining down on them.

After all those years together, she knew the ceremony didn't mean all that much to them; they had mostly done it for Molly, who had been planning her only daughter's wedding almost since the day she was born, and they all knew once she made up her mind on something, there was nothing they could do but oblige. She and Hermione had that in common.

She got up and slowly walked over to where they were now standing, patiently waiting for the other guests to finish congratulating them so that she could finally reach them.

Every time she saw them together, she had the same feeling. She had never seen two people that looked so perfect for each other, that understood one another so completely. Even after all these years, their faces still lit up when they looked at one another. As much as she hated to admit it, sometimes she felt jealous of what they had. She had never found anything like that, not even with Ron.

For years, she had thought herself in love with him, and when they had finally started going out, after the war, she convinced herself she was happy. After almost two years, they had moved in together, and the relationship had changed. They soon fell on a comfortable routine, staying together because it was the easy thing to do, what everyone expected to happen, but she had to admit they were more like roommates than an actual couple most of the time. Of course, she only realized this after she had left.

She had noticed the first changes a few months back; he would go out almost every night and return home late at night, changing the subject every time she asked him if everything was all right. They rarely talked anymore, and their sexual life had gone from boring to nonexistent, but she still refused to acknowledge the changes and convinced herself it would pass. She truly believed they could still work it out, that they could find the flame they had lost so long ago again.

That was, of course, until the night she had come home early from work, only to find him fucking another woman on their kitchen table, the same woman he had now invited to his sister's wedding.

At least, he'd had the courage to admit the truth. He'd met her at work, and they had been seeing each other for months. When she had asked him why he hadn't just broken up with her, if he wanted to be with the other woman, he had answered he wasn't sure of what he wanted.

She had left the apartment that very night, throwing a few nasty curses his way, and moving in with Harry a few days, until she could find a place of her own.

The next few weeks, her friends tried to take her out, force her to have some fun, but she refused to leave her new apartment, except to go to work. After being betrayed by someone she'd known since she was eleven, the man she'd been living with, the one she'd opened her heart to, how could she ever trust anyone else?

After almost ten minutes, she finally reached the newlyweds.

"I'm so happy for you," she told Harry, smiling and hugging him tightly.

"Thank you," he answered, and then whispered by her ear, so no one else could hear, "Are you alright?"

It took her a few moments to realize what he was talking about. "Yes," she muttered, and her eyes darted to Ron and the blond woman, standing next to Ginny and holding hands.

"I didn't know he would bring her here, I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Don't worry," she muttered, taking a step back and forcing a smile at him. "I'm fine."

They looked at each other for a few more seconds, and it looked like he wanted to say something else, but Charlie interrupted.

"So, you're officially part of the family now," he said, patting Harry's shoulder and winking at her, and she smiled and nodded, silently thanking him for distracting Harry.

Without wasting a second, she turned around and headed back to the house; suddenly, she didn't feel like being surrounded by dozens of happy people.

She slowly made her way through the house, a small smile on her lips as she remembered all the happy days she had spent there. All the visits during Hogwarts vacation, and all those birthdays, Christmas and New Year's parties with Harry and the Weasleys, even the time her parents had joined them there, Arthur chasing them the whole evening, much to Molly's embarrassment, wanting to know every little detail about their jobs. The next year, her father had sent him some of the books he had in his practice, and a few catalogues with the instruments dentists used; she had never seen Arthur so excited.

Her smile broadened at the memory, as she walked into the kitchen, following the irresistible scent of dark chocolate. She knew they would have dinner soon, but once she saw the tray full of those delicious chocolate biscuits Molly had made, she couldn't help herself. Chocolate always made it all better.

After the third one, she forced herself away from the table, and walked to the sink to wash her hands. She had just finished drying them out when she looked out the window and froze. Just a few feet from the house, she could see Ron and his girl, kissing like there was no tomorrow. She had her hands buried in his hair, and his hands were on her lower back, pulling her flush against his body.

He had never kissed her like that, not with such passion and desire. In fact, she couldn't remember ever being kissed that way. Was it her fault? Maybe there was something wrong with her; maybe she couldn't feel that kind of passion. She felt her eyes tear up at the sight, hurt for everything that had happened, for never having made Ron feel that way about her.

"Forget about him," she heard a soft voice by her ear, and she almost jumped in surprise. She hadn't heard anyone walk in.

"I wish it were that easy," she sighed, her eyes still on the couple, and felt Bill step closer, their bodies almost touching.

"He wasn't good enough for you," he whispered by her ear, repeating the words she had said to him over two years before, when his wife had left him.

Fleur and Bill had gotten married as planned, the summer after Dumbledore's death, and at first, they had seemed like a happy couple. Hermione and Bill had become close friends after the war, when she took a job at Gringotts. They had sent her to Egypt, to try to translate some of the hieroglyphics on one of the tombs they hadn't been able to enter yet, and they had sent Bill with her, their most experienced curse breaker.

It had taken a few months for the translation to be complete, so they had spent a lot of time together. Fleur and Ron had visited a few times, but it was usually just the two of them. They had spent their days working hard under the burning sun, and the nights getting to know each other. She knew Bill had been a Prefect and Head Boy at Hogwarts, but she was still surprised they had so much more in common. They both loved reading, and could spend hours discussing just about every subject they could think of, some times even talking the night away.

After the first few weeks, she noticed Fleur didn't visit him very often, and when she did, she looked rather uncomfortable around him. He also rarely talked about his wife, and whenever she was mentioned, he did his best to change the subject. She had asked him a few times if everything was all right with the witch, and every time he had just smiled at her and told her there was no problem at all. It had taken a long time for him finally to admit the truth.

As much as he hated to admit it, he had changed after Greyback's attack. Fleur didn't care about the scars, but his behaviour sometimes scared her, especially after full moon. It had taken him even longer to admit why his wife felt that way.

He had always been soft and careful around her, romantic and caring, but after the attack, he had become "too rough", in Fleur's words. She wanted to be treated like a princess, with someone always looking after her, ready to fulfil her every wish, and as much as he loved her, Bill just wasn't that man. He wasn't even sure he had ever been.

Then, a few months after they had left Egypt and gone back to England, Fleur had left. Not a warning, not even goodbye, he had just gotten home from work to find their house almost empty, all her things gone. He had tried to find her, but her parents wouldn't even talk to him. She had broken his heart, making feel like a monster, someone who didn't deserve to be loved.

He had locked himself up in his house, then, refusing to go out and not letting anyone in. She could remember spending hours outside his house, sitting by the locked door, talking and talking, never getting more than an occasional groan in return.

She had decided to give him some time, but there was no change, so one afternoon she showed up and blew the door open with one of the most powerful spells she knew. She strode inside, only to find him lying on the couch, his eyes puffy and empty bottles all over the floor.

She stood in front of the surprised and barely awake wizard, her hands on her hips as she ordered, in her best bossy tone, "Get up." When he simply groaned in return, she aimed her wand at his chest. "Up," she repeated, menacingly, and after a few moments and another loud groan, he finally got up.

"Go take a shower," she commanded then, and when he didn't move she took a step closer, red sparks flying from her wand as she threatened, "Do not test my patience, William."

She watched him slowly stagger to the bathroom, and right before he closed the door, she yelled, "And shave, too."

That had been a Friday afternoon, and she had spent the entire weekend in his place, talking for hours, and sitting in silence, whenever she felt he needed it.

"She wasn't good enough for you, you deserve a lot better," she had told him that night, after hours of silence, both sitting in front of the fire, his head resting on her lap as she ran her fingers through his long hair. He had just snorted.

Hands on her hips surprised her and brought her back to reality, to Ron kissing that woman just a few feet away, and Bill standing right behind her.

"I should have been there for you," he whispered, leaning closer and sending shivers through her body.

"You were busy," she said, glad she could manage to sound normal with him standing so close to her.

"You were there when I needed you."

"Well, that's what friends are for." She heard him laugh behind her, and then he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against him.

"He wasn't good enough for you."

"You said that already."

"Because it's the truth." She felt him rest his chin on her shoulder, looking at the kissing couple. "I've seen you with him; he wasn't right for you. You couldn't even keep a real conversation with him," he said, and her eyes filled with tears at the sad truth in his words. "He couldn't challenge you intellectually. Or physically," he added, the last words whispered so softly she wasn't sure she hadn't just imagined them. His lips touched her ear for a moment, before he continued. "He couldn't make you laugh, couldn't spend hours just sitting next to you, enjoying your company in silence." She felt her heart speed up at his words, at his closeness.

"He couldn't make your heart beat faster just by standing close to you," he said, his lips slowly moving along her neck. She felt her body relax a little in his arms, and leaned back against his hard chest. "Couldn't make you moan with only his voice," he whispered softly by her ear, and she couldn't stop the moan escaping her lips. "You deserve someone who will worship you, someone that can't get you out of his mind, no matter what," he said, his hands leaving her hips and moving up, softly caressing her breasts through the dress. "It's hard to believe you didn't see it earlier."

"I loved him," she said.

"Maybe, but you weren't in love. There wasn't understanding, there wasn't passion, desire," he whispered, nibbling on her neck.

"Bill," she moaned softly, and opened her eyes, to watch the couple again. "Why wasn't it like that with me? In all the years we were together, he never kissed me like he's kissing her, not once."

"Because he is an idiot," he answered. "He never knew what he had, and still hasn't realized what he's lost."

"He doesn't seem to mind it much."

"But he will, and when he does, it will be too late. His loss will be another man's gain."

"It will?" she asked, and moaned as one of his hands moved back down her body and under the dress, softly caressing her thighs.

"Oh, yes. That man will be one lucky bastard."

"And who will it be?" she moaned, and he pushed against her, letting her feel just how aroused he was.

"Well, it could be anyone. Maybe an old friend, who took too long to realize just how amazing you are, and just might take a chance now he's found out you are available."

"Bill, I don't think we should do this," she whispered, as she felt his hand caressing her inner thighs.

"Then don't think," he simply answered.

"We've been friends for years; I don't want to lose you because of a one night…"

"Hush," he said, a finger on her lips preventing more words to leave her mouth.

He pulled her hair to the side and licked her neck, from shoulder to earlobe, making her shiver and moan. "Don't think. Don't speak. Just feel," he murmured, nibbling and biting on her neck after each sentence as he ground his hips into her.

She finally relaxed in his arms, pushing anything other than the man behind her out of her mind. She felt his fingers trail up her thigh, drawing small circles as they moved closer and closer to her core.

"Do you like it?" he asked huskily, and she could only nod and moan even louder as he pushed her knickers to the side and flicked her clit. He moved his other hand inside the dress too, fondling her breasts and pinching her nipples as he slowly pushed a finger inside of her. She threw back her arm then, winding it around his neck and pushing his lips closer to her neck.

Her breathing grew ragged as he pushed another finger inside of her, the palm of his hand rubbing against her clit.

"Oh, Bill," she moaned, his fingers moving faster and faster inside of her, and she had to move her other hand to the counter in front of her, resting her weight on it to prevent herself from falling, as her knees gave way. He pushed his body harder against her, his erection pressed firmly against her back as he gave her pleasure.

She could feel her muscles contracting around his fingers as she rocked her hips against his hand. Suddenly, he curled his fingers inside of her, his thumb flicking over her clit one last time, making her world explode.

She was still panting when she felt him stiffen behind her and step back, just as his mother walked into the kitchen.

"Well, what are you doing in here?" Molly asked distractedly, as she walked in.

She felt his hands on her again, fixing her dress and then reaching for a glass from the cupboard over her head.

"I was just saying hello to Hermione here. I hadn't seen her since I left for India."

She took the chance to fix her hair, and take a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"Well, there will be time for that later. Now go back outside, everyone's waiting at the table," she said, oblivious to what had happened, and left.

"Hermione," Bill whispered, walking back to where she was, but she turned around and held out her arm, stopping him before he could reach her.

"This was a mistake," she said, refusing to meet his eyes.

"No, it wasn't, and you know it."

"I can't do this right now, I'm sorry," she muttered, and walked to the door.

"Wait, please," he said, grabbing her arm as she tried to leave.

"This is wrong, Bill. You. Me. I can't lose you as a friend," she whispered.

"Hermione, hurry up," came Harry's voice from outside the house before Bill could say anything else.

"I'll be right there," she answered, freeing her arm and walking out, refusing to look at him as she did.


	2. waited so long

She walked towards the door, but stopped as she reached it, taking another deep breath and trying to calm herself before facing everyone. She forced a smile on her lips and finally walked out of the house, cursing under her breath as she saw everyone was already sitting, and there were only two empty chairs left, one right next to the other.

"Hermione, here, I saved you a seat," Harry said, grinning as she walked towards the empty chair next to him.

"Thanks," she muttered as she sat down. She felt movement next to her, and then Bill sat too.

"Are you all right?" Harry whispered by her ear, a concerned look on his face.

"Of course I am," she answered, smiling again. "How about you? How does it feel to be married?"

"Well, it actually feels pretty much the same, but don't tell Ginny I said that, or I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight," he joked.

"Oh, she would never do that to you," she laughed, and then added in a lower voice, "She spent a whole day shopping for sexy lingerie." She watched Harry's eyes widen, a mischievous look on his face as he turned to Ginny for a moment, and then back to Hermione.

"Really?" he asked, and she simply smiled and turned to her plate.

As twilight came, hundreds of small white lights appeared, floating in mid air, like small stars. They had been sitting for almost half an hour, everyone talking excitedly as they ate. She reached for her glass of wine, but just as she started to drink, she felt a hand on her thigh. She gasped, choked and coughed loudly, and felt everyone's eyes on her.

"All right there, Hermione?" Charlie asked from his seat in front of her, and as she nodded, she noticed the knowing smile on his lips.

"Yes, fine," she said, as soon as she stopped coughing, and waited for everyone to go back to their conversations before placing her hand on top of the other one, and forcibly removing it from her leg.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed at Bill, refusing to look at him.

"I want to touch you," he whispered, too close to her ear, his hand soon moving back to her leg.

"Stop that," she said, lifting the glass to her lips again, hoping no one would notice her talking to Bill.

"No," he replied, his hand moving higher up her thigh. She pushed her legs together, and more to the left, hoping he wouldn't reach her there.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, when he wouldn't stop.

"I already told you."

"And I already told you not to," she said, frowning.

"You're not the only stubborn one here, you know?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I want you, and I won't give up. I don't care what you say."

"Well, if you don't care what I think about this, then think about your family. They're all here, sitting with us."

"So?"

"So?" she asked, shocked, her voice high pitched as his fingers reached her knickers.

"Stop pretending you don't want this, I can smell you from here," he said, his voice hoarse with desire.

"That doesn't matter," she said, shaking her head slightly, as if trying to clear her thoughts.

"Then what does?" he asked.

"Please, Bill. We've been friends for a long time, please don't ruin it," she pleaded, but didn't pull away from his touch again.

"Why would this ruin it? Maybe it will make it all better."

"I can't, Bill," she whispered softly. "I can't risk losing you."

"That will never happen," he said, and she shivered under his touch. She was glad everyone around them was too distracted to notice their behaviour, but still she felt like she was being watched; she didn't dare look up to find out if it was true.

"Please, stop," she asked again, but even as her brain screamed at her to get away while she still could, her body longed to feel him again, to have him inside her.

It had taken her a long time to realize exactly what her feelings towards him were; he had a wife, and she was living with his brother, so to see him as anything other than a friend was just too complicated. He was handsome, of that, there was no doubt, and the scars on his face, instead of disfiguring, gave him a dangerous look, and made him even more attractive; but anyone could see that, she had told herself. It didn't mean a thing.

If it had been just that, she would have been all right, just a physical attraction at best, although surely one-sided. Why on earth would he even look at her twice with a beauty like Fleur by his side? She was just a friend to him, his little brother's girl. He would never see her as anything else, so why bother wondering what could be?

Then she had gotten to know him, had spent days and nights working with him, spending almost all their free time together. She had found in him someone who loved knowledge as much as she did, a clever, intelligent wizard who could stay up late at night discussing things like runes or ancient spells. She had shared things with him no one else knew, had confided in him, trusted him completely. It was bound to happen, how could she not fall for a man like that?

Again, her conscience put a stop to her feelings. The logical approach was what she was best at, and she knew the only way she could have him in her life would be as a friend. With time, he had become an important part of her life, and she knew he felt the same. She had been the one that had stood by him when his wife left, the one that helped him move on; and he was the one she always gone to when she needed advice or just someone who would listen.

That was why what had happened in the kitchen had scared her so much. She had buried her feelings for him a long time ago, making herself forget about them; when he had approached her, he had stirred them again, pushed them back to the surface, making her vulnerable. She didn't want to be vulnerable, didn't want to be hurt again, and couldn't bear the thought of not having him in her life.

She didn't know how much time had passed, too focused on the hand between her legs, and trying not to moan aloud at the way he made her feel. The dinner had been Vanished from table, quickly replaced by coffee and a few bottles of Firewhisky. She was looking at Arthur, on the other side of the table, pretending to hear him talk about "pheletones" and nodding from time to time, when the music started playing.

A few cheers came from some of the tables, groans from others as Harry and Ginny walked to the place most of the floating lights had moved to, both looking blissful as they faced each other and started dancing, soon followed by other couples.

It was her chance and she knew it. Making sure everyone around her was focused on the dancing couples; she got up and almost ran into the house, Bill calling her name as she moved.

She ran inside, then down the hall and started up the stairs to the room she was staying in for the weekend, but had only managed to climb the first few steps when he reached her.

"And just where do you think you're going?" his voice asked from behind her, and she stopped walking.

"Just go back outside, please," she said with a sigh, not turning around, but she had barely taken a few more steps when she felt him touch her, his hands on her shoulders as he turned her around to face him and then pushed her against the wall.

"You're not getting away," he said, with a wolfish grin.

"Let me go," she said, and pushed at him half-heartedly.

"Never," he said, as he kissed her neck.

"Don't play with me," she begged, her eyes suddenly filled with tears as she looked at him. He had frozen in place at her words, a hurt look on his face, soon followed by a curious one as he leaned back to look at her.

"You think I'm playing?" he asked, his eyes fixed on hers.

"I don't know," she answered softly, shaking her head.

"Hermione, I want you, not for a few hours, not for a night. I want you by my side."

"You…you do?" she asked, hesitantly, and instead of answering, he kissed her.

Now she knew. Now she finally knew what it felt like to be kissed with such passion and desire. He pushed his body against her as their tongues duelled, and she could feel the need in his kiss. That was just what every kiss should feel like, she told herself, her hands flying to his neck, her fingers on his hair as she pulled him closer.

"You still think this is a game?" he asked, panting slightly, when the need for air made them break the kiss, and she just shook her head and kissed him again.

"Merlin, I need you so badly," he groaned, kissing her throat as his hands moved under her dress, ripping her knickers from her body and making her yelp. He hurriedly opened his robes and undid his slacks, before lifting her legs and burying himself completely inside of her.

They both moaned loudly at the feeling, having wanted it for so long. He gave her a few moments to adjust before moving again, his thrusts fast and deep, full of need. His lips were on her neck again, marking her as he took her closer to heaven with every stroke. She tried to take off his robes, needing to touch him, but he grunted and took both her hands, pinning them over her head.

She arched against him, loving this dominating side, even when his free hand tore her dress down the middle, baring her breasts to him.

"So beautiful," he murmured, his lips nibbling their way to her sensitive nipples, biting them just hard enough to make her scream and push her over the edge.

"Oh, Bill," she screamed as her muscles contracted around him, but even then he didn't stop moving, his thrusts faster and deeper as he rode her orgasm.

The sensations threatened to overwhelm her, and she started moving against him, meeting thrust for thrust.

"Oh, fuck," she heard, but it wasn't Bill's voice. Her eyes shot open as she looked to the side. Someone was there, standing at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide and mouth open and it only took her dazed brain a second to realize just who it was.

"Charlie," she said, but it came out more like a moan, as Bill's hand moved between them and pinched her clit. He froze instantly.

"What?" he asked, looking at her and frowning.

"Charlie," she said, softly, and he followed her gaze to his brother, standing just a few feet away.

"Oh," he said, and laughed, his chest shaking against her. He started moving inside of her again, as if there had been no interruption. "For a moment there, I thought you had called me Charlie." Then, turning to his brother, "Is there anything you need, little brother?"

She was still looking at Charlie, and could feel his hungry gaze on her body, but Bill's ministrations were making it hard for her to think properly. All she knew was Bill was pinching her clit again, and she groaned loudly, another orgasm quickly building up.

She heard another voice then, and Charlie moved a finger to his lips, asking her to keep quiet.

"Did you find her?" Harry asked. Her mind kept telling her to stop Bill, to hide before Harry found her like that, but they were too far-gone, there was no stopping now.

"No, she's not up here," answered Charlie, turning away from them. "Now that I think about it, I believe she said something about my dad wanting to show her some Muggle stuff he got last week. Maybe you should ask him if he's seen her."

"You think? All right then. Are you coming?" Harry said, after a few moments. With a last glance their way, Charlie left with him, and she turned back to Bill.

"He could have found us," she said, even as she arched against him.

"Don't care," he panted, thrusting even harder as his own climax drew closer.

"Bill," she moaned again, as wave after wave of pleasure hit her, this time taking him with her.

"Merlin, I love you," he said by her ear as he stiffened inside of her, groaning.

He rested his head on her shoulder as he tried to recover some strength, and she moved her now free hands to his back, slowly running her nails up and down his body.

"You better stop that, or we'll never leave this place," he said, and she felt him twitch inside of her.

She laughed softly and tried to get back on her feet, but he wouldn't let go of her legs.

"I'd wanted this for so long," he muttered by her ear, making her gasp.

"You did?"

"Oh, yes. Far longer than I should," he replied. "But it was even better than I had imagined it."

"You had imagined it?" she asked, smiling as he looked at her.

"Of course I had. Maybe not exactly standing on the stairs in my parents' house with dozens of people out there," he said, and she laughed.

"Want to know how I imagined it?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips.

"Tell me," she whispered.

"Oh, no, not telling. I'm going to show you," he answered, desire evident on his eyes again as he wound his arms around her and, with a loud pop, Apparated them both to his place.


	3. at last

He only let go of her once they were in his place, and she took a step back, her breathing still ragged as her eyes wandered nervously around the room.

"The place looks different," she muttered; he couldn't care less.

He waited for a few moments until she turned back to him, a nervous look on her face as she nibbled on her lower lip, and with a low growl he stepped, or stalked more like, towards her. Her dress was still torn down the middle, her breasts heaving up and down as her breathing hardened, and he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

He couldn't believe it was actually happening, after waiting so long, telling himself she could never want anything with a man like him, a cursed man; but she was his now, and he would enjoy every minute of it.

He licked his lips as he watched her, taking another step closer and making her step back again, until her back hit the table. She stopped then, and he moved closer still, his body flush against hers as he placed his hands on the table, on either side of her body, trapping her. He saw her cheeks flush at the look he was giving her, one of pure desire, and he smirked deviously at her. It was amazing how she could still look so innocent, even when she was half naked and aroused, and how he could make her flush, even after what had just happened between them.

He had never wanted anything, anyone more than he wanted her, and now he had her he wasn't planning on letting her go.

Slowly, he bent down and licked her neck, growling into her ear as he reached it, making her shiver and moan loudly in response. He felt her lean closer to him, felt her heated skin against him, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to feel all of her; feel her touch, feel her naked body against his.

Suddenly her expression changed, a look of decision in her face he knew only too well, and then she spurted into action. Before he knew it, her hands were buried in his long hair, pulling him closer as she wrapped a leg around his thigh. Not needing any more encouragement, he moved his hands to her hips and lifted her up, sitting her on the table and standing between her thighs, leaning as close to her as he could, kissing her fervently, hearing her moan and pull him flush against her body. He couldn't remember ever being with someone so responsive, or ever feeling so turned on.

So many days he had spent there, in that very room, sitting right next to her, trying to hide what he had really been thinking, the images in his mind that were slowly driving him crazy.

He wasn't sure how it had happened, or when, but it hadn't been overnight. She had been his little brother's girl at first, the bushy haired bookworm. He had liked her then, but never saw her as more than that. Then, one afternoon, his boss had called him to his office, to let him know he was being sent on another mission. He had never imagined how that trip would change his life.

They had become friends then, good friends, thrown together at work, with not much to do other than speak; he had gotten to know her better, and they had grown closer. She was so much like him in so many ways he had been awfully surprised. She was nothing like he had imagined from the little moments spent with her during the years. She was smart, witty and even funny, never afraid of anything and always ready for a good fight when he said something she didn't agree on. Oh, the times he had disagreed with her for that purpose alone, loving how her cheeks would flush and her eyes widen, how her hair seemed even wilder and her hands moved all around her as she tried to convince him she was right by every possible mean.

He had shared so many things with her, things he had never told anyone, and soon she was part of his life, someone he couldn't imagine being without.

Things hadn't been right with Fleur for a long time; his wife had been scared of him, and he could see it in her eyes every time he looked at her. She had never said anything, but there was no need, he could feel it.

That never happened with Hermione. Not once had she looked at him with caution or fear, never treated him differently because of the curse tainting him. She had been curious about it, in fact, wanting to know how he had changed, and what he felt like. The first full moon in Egypt he had explained to her he needed to be alone, and she had simply nodded in understanding and gone back to her bedroom. The following morning a soft knock on his door had awoken him at sunrise, and he found her standing in the hallway, a flask with Invigoration Draught in one hand and a stack of parchment in the other.

She had spent the entire night researching, trying to find information about wizards that had been attacked by a werewolf in human form.

His name whispered by his ear brought him out of his reverie, and his eyes focused on Hermione again as she moved her hands to his shoulders, pushing his robes off before she started undoing his shirt, her small hands fumbling slightly as she worked the buttons.

His eyes rested on her lips, and he saw she was nibbling on them as she concentrated on taking off his clothes. Unable to help himself, he buried his hand in her curls and pulled her face to his, crushing her lips with his in a passionate kiss. He had wanted to do that for so long.

It had started while they were still in Egypt, he knew that much, although he couldn't remember exactly when. It had been a slow process, getting to know her, feeling her worm her way into his life, changing it all as she did.

One night, he had found himself lying in bed with Fleur, on one of her sparse visits. She was telling him about London, some silly story that involved her shopping and some unpleasant sales-witch, and even as he nodded and hummed in agreement whenever she made a pause, his thoughts drifted to Hermione. She never bored him with her conversation, never talked for hours about silly, superficial things, and if she had ever caught him nodding in agreement without actually listening to her…well, he didn't even want to think what the little witch would do to him. She might be small, but she was like a force of nature.

A silly smile formed on his lips at the thought of her, and Fleur thought he was smiling at her. She moved closer to him then, resting her hand against his chest as she smiled back, her head tilting to the side as she kissed him softly. He had closed his eyes then, and without warning, images of Hermione replaced Fleur's in his mind's eye.

He had been surprised, confused, but had told himself it meant nothing. They spent many hours together, so him thinking of her wasn't strange. Still, it hadn't stopped there.

The next time he had seen her, his eyes had instantly darted to her full lips, wondering if kissing her would feel like kissing Fleur. Healthy curiosity, and nothing more, that was what he had told himself back then; she was the only woman around most of the time, and him occasionally thinking of her that way wasn't strange. It was natural, a trick of his subconscious.

The first time he had dreamed of her, that was when he had began to worry. She was his brother's girlfriend, so why was he thinking of her in that way? He had tried to push those thoughts away, but every time he closed her eyes, all he saw was her, lying beneath him, her bushy hair fanned around her head, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed and her breathing ragged.

Much like what she looked like now he had gently but firmly pushed her back against the table.

Not wanting to dwell on the memories now that she was really there, he focused on the present, on her legs, wrapped around his hips, pulling him to her, on her hands, trailing up and down his arms now that his shirt was lying somewhere on the floor, her nails leaving reddened trails as they moved, making him hiss in pleasure and lean down for another kiss.

His fingers softly caressed her skin, taking his time now he finally could. Without breaking the kiss, he pushed her dress up her thighs, rolling it around her waist before moving his hands to her shoulders, pulling the rest of the dress down.

He leaned back just enough to watch her, more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. Her skin was soft and slightly tanned, her body perfect, down to the last curve.

His hands moved seemingly out of their own free will, unable to stay still now he had her before him, now he was finally allowed to feel her. He cupped her face for a moment, as he took in her expression, a look of desire, of love, he had never seen before. Then his fingers trailed down her neck, watching her close her eyes and bite her lower lip, trying to hold back a moan. He knew she had a sensitive neck, had noticed it back in the kitchen, when he had kissed it and felt her shiver, and with a mischievous smile he bit her, not hard enough to hurt, but only just. As he had expected, she moaned loudly and arched against him, her nails sinking into his shoulders as she pulled him closer.

He loved the slight pain mixing with the pleasure, it made everything more intense.

His lips trailed down her neck, across her collarbone and then down her chest, leaving a warm, wet trail as they moved, then wrapping around a hardened nipple, his fingers playing with the other at the same time.

"Bill," he heard her moan, as her hands on his shoulders pulled him closer.

He had imagined hearing her moan his name like that for so long, a part of him couldn't believe it was real, that it was finally happening.

For a while he had thought he could control it. He had still hoped things would work out with Fleur, and so he had done his best to push all thoughts of Hermione aside as he focused on his wife. They had been so in love when they had gotten married, or at least that's what he had thought back then, and a part of him didn't want to let go, although deep inside he knew things had changed too much to go back to what they were.

Maybe it had happened before he fell in love with Hermione, or maybe later, but suddenly he had found himself going to her with his thoughts and problems. Whenever something happened to him, good or bad, the first thing that came to his mind was that he needed to see her. He had stopped turning to Fleur, along with his friends, and even though there was nothing more than friendship between him and Hermione, he had felt as if he were betraying Fleur, and that ate him up inside.

Loving to hear his name moaned from those luscious lips, he kissed his way down Hermione's chest, flicking his tongue into her bellybutton as he passed, making her gasp deliciously.

She was everything he had ever imagined and more; he couldn't get enough of her.

Even though only a few minutes had passed, he was painfully hard again, but he decided to ignore his need to fulfil hers. He wanted to touch, lick, kiss every inch of her body; he wanted to commit every inch of it to memory, and then do it again, and again, for the rest of his life if she would let him.

When he had returned to England for his sister's wedding, he hadn't planned on starting something with Hermione; far from it, in fact. He had heard about her and Ron, about the nasty break up, and although he knew she probably needed a friend, he still hadn't returned to London, to be by her side and help her as she had helped him when his marriage ended.

It had been a selfish decision, but by the time she and Ron broke up, she was in his mind every minute of every day, and he was afraid that, if he returned, he would not be able to control himself anymore, that he would do something stupid, something that would ruin their friendship, and he simply couldn't take that risk. He needed time to get over her before seeing her again. He hadn't counted on his sister finally getting married.

She had looked so beautiful at the wedding, more beautiful even that he remembered, after months away from her. He had tried to push all non friendly thoughts from his mind, but he wasn't ready to let go yet. She was too important to him to simply forget. Although he had tried to behave like just a friend around her, it wasn't easy, and seeing her hurt only made him want to hold her, made his need to protect her deeper.

It had broken his heart to see her expression when she saw Ron and that blonde tramp together. He had seen the hurt in her eyes even as she tried to hide it, and when she had slipped through the crowd and back into the house, he had followed her. He had only wanted to talk to her, to try and make her feel better, but it hadn't gone as planned, and suddenly, he had found himself holding her, whispering into her ear words he had never thought he'd say out loud. He had never thought she would respond to him the way she did.

Moving one of her legs over his shoulder, he kissed her inner thigh, watching her close her eyes and moan softly. She was so beautiful, so perfect, and in that moment, she was his. She could have any man she wanted, and yet she was there, with him.

Intent on showing her just how glad he was for that, he leaned down and playfully flicked his tongue around her clit, his other hand moving to her hip to keep her in place as her body arched into his touch.

With a wicked smile and his gaze still fixed on her, loving the look of pleasure on her face, pleasure he was giving her, he flicked his tongue again and then slipped a finger inside of her.

Whatever thought or dream he had ever had of the two of them, whatever hope of one day having her had vanished, funnily enough, when his wife had left him. it hadn't been unexpected, but the way it had happened, the things she had said, had made any possibility of him ever being happy with Hermione or anyone else, of someone ever loving him, laughable.

"She's not good enough for you," Hermione had whispered to him as she ran her fingers through his long hair.

He knew she thought the reason behind his attitude, behind his sorrow, was Fleur, but she wasn't completely right. She thought Fleur wasn't good enough for him; he thought he was the one that wasn't good enough.

A monster, that's what Fleur had called him the night before she left. He had never told Hermione that; he was too afraid that those words were true, and that she would somehow realize what he was, and would leave him, like his wife had.

But even as Hermione had held him close to him, as she had talked to him or just sat by him, worried and wanting to help him, he had wondered if he was good enough for her. How much truth was there in Fleur's words? Was he really a monster, is that what the curse running through his veins had turned him into? His wife had made him feel as if he didn't deserve to be loved, and yet this witch, the one that haunted his dreams, loved him. Maybe she didn't love him like he loved her, maybe she loved him only as a friend, but that was love, nonetheless.

He felt her muscles tensing around his fingers, her hands moving to his head, fingers threading through his hair as she guided his movements.

He wanted to feel her come again, wanted to hear her scream his name in pleasure as she writhed under his ministrations. He wanted her to want him.

As her moans grew louder he wondered if perhaps Hermione did feel the same way. How much time had he lost, thinking it was impossible, too afraid to go after what he wanted? Well, he had a lot to make up for.

He might not be good enough for her, but he couldn't imagine anyone loving her more than he did, and he was willing to spend his life proving just that to her.

"Oh, Bill," she screamed as she reached her climax, and he didn't stop; he kept tasting her, his fingers still moving inside of her until she pulled his head up, panting and exhausted.

Unable to hold back any longer, he took the rest of his clothes off, moving both her legs over his shoulders as he slowly pushed inside of her.

He groaned loudly at the feeling of being buried in her; she was so tight, so warm and wet, that he wished he could stay like that forever.

Back at the Burrow, he hadn't had the opportunity to watch her. they had been almost fully clothed, and he had taken her hard and fast, knowing they could be found any minute. Now it was different; now he could take his time.

His gaze moved down her body, taking in the blush and the light sheen of sweat. Then he looked lower, to the spot where his body met hers. It was not a dream, it was not a fantasy; she was really there, with him.

He started moving slowly, enjoying the feeling of her body wrapped around him and ignoring voice inside him telling him to take her hard and fast, to bury himself inside her and never leave.

She moaned his name again, her hands moving to his shoulders, then down his chest, her nails scratching his skin as they went in a way that made him shiver and thrust hard.

"Yes, Bill, faster," she moaned, her hips pushing up slightly as she tightened her muscles rhythmically around him.

Well, if that was what she wanted, that was what he would give her. here would be plenty of time for slow later.

With a predatory look on his face he pushed her legs off his shoulders and reached forward, burying his hand tight into her hair and yanking her up hard, so she was sitting again. The new angle made her groan loudly in pleasure, or maybe it was not that, but his rough, dominant actions that did it.

He remained still inside her, his gaze fixed on her as she looked back, deep into his eyes. He was amazed at the passion he saw there.

She wanted him to take control, and he did it without hesitation.

Moving both his hands down to her hips, he roughly pulled her to him as he thrust into her, going deeper into her than ever before. She wrapped her hands around his neck for balance, leaning forward so that she was flush against him, and as they moved he could feel her hard nipples rubbing against his chest in the most tantalizing way.

He trailed his lips down her neck, reaching that sensitive spot where neck met shoulder and biting on it, feeling her tilt her head to the side to give him better access as his thrusts became faster, harder.

He had never acted that way with Fleur, had never been able to thrust hard into her, to show dominance. She had never allowed him to follow his desires. But Fleur was the last thing he wanted in his mind, so he pushed those thoughts away as he pushed his hips harder against Hermione's.

He wasn't sure how much longer he would last, and he wanted to make her come again before he did. His name chanted into his ear, her nails sinking into his shoulders as she pulled him closer, her muscles contracting deliciously around him as he thrust inside of her, it was quickly becoming too much.

Moving his hand between their bodies he easily found her clit, his thumb rubbing it just hard enough to push her over the edge, her muscles clamping mercilessly around him, pulling him into oblivion with her.

For so long now he'd had to be careful, always holding back in fear that he would call out the wrong name in ecstasy, and now it was really her with him; now he could finally say her name out loud and see her eyes shine as he did.

"I love you," he found himself whispering softly into her neck as he buried his face there, waiting for his breathing to go back to normal.

For a moment nothing happened, but then he felt her move, her fingers on his chin, tilting his head up until he was facing her again.

He saw something in her eyes as she looked deep into his, although he wasn't sure what it was. His gaze jumped to her lips as her pink tongue darting out to lick them, her expression suddenly nervous, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't bring herself to do it.

He tilted his head back, his brow furrowed as he wondered if he had upset her in any way.

He shouldn't have said those words, he shouldn't have said anything, but they had just come out, and now he couldn't take them back. He had scared her, and now he feared she would run away.

He had taken advantage of her state; she had been feeling sad and hurt over Ron, and he had still gone after her, using her emotions, her confusion for his own benefit. He had never meant to hurt her, but that didn't change anything.

He let his hands fall to his sides, not sure how to apologize to her for what he had done. He was supposed to be her friend, how could he have abused her trust in such a way?

He was an idiot, and now he would really lose her. She would never speak to him again, never want to see him after this, and he couldn't blame her. He should have…

Her hand around his neck startled him, but not as much as her lips on his. She hadn't said a word, but her tender, loving kiss spoke volumes.

Without a second's hesitation he kissed her back, holding her in his arms as he felt his heart beat wildly against hers.

As relief flooded him he pulled her to him, moving his hands to her hips and holding her as he took a step back from the table. Making sure she was holding on to him hard enough, he made his way to the bedroom.

"Sweet Merlin, again?" he heard her gasp when he twitched inside of her, hardening again at just the thought of having her one more time, but even as she spoke he felt her tilt her hips, moaning softly as his body rubbed against her clit. She seemed to be as insatiable as he was.

With a roguish smile, he took her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed, licking his lips before lying on top of her.

"Tired already?" he asked teasingly, and she shook her head. "Good," he whispered by her ear before biting her neck again. "We have the whole night ahead of ourselves."

* * *

First of all, so sorry about the eternal wait!! I hate taking so long to update, but the muse wasn't helping, and then I decided I wouldn't update until I knew I'd have the time to keep the updates frequent. I can't promise I'll update as frequently as with my other stories, though, but I'll do my best to do it. 

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, and to all those waiting for more on this story. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and what's to come.


End file.
